Transmigrated as a Stepmother: Time to Bring the Family to Prosper!
Chapter 56 - 55: Watching the Clouds Roll By (Third Update)
CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER 55: WATCHING THE CLOUDS ROLL BY (THIRD UPDATE)
The snow had completely melted, the weather was getting warmer day by day, and the river’s water level was rising. Qin Yao forbade the children at home from playing by the river.
Every day, Da Lang and Second Lang resumed their morning runs now that the snow had melted.
The first task before spring farming was to harvest the wheat planted late last autumn to make room for planting rice.
Regarding this matter, Qin Yao and Liu Ji reached a strange tacit understanding of "you don’t mention it, I won’t talk about it either."
February was already halfway over, and farmers were busy in the fields everywhere, while at the Liu Family’s old house, every member of the family, young and old, was out and about these days.
Even little Jinhua, who was only six, would go out with them. She carried a small basket on her back, and while the adults were busy in the fields, she and her cousin Jinbao would cut wild vegetables by the field ridges to take home and feed the chickens.
Under the busy main theme of Liu Family Village, the Qin Yao family living alone under the North Slope seemed out of place.
Early in the morning, while others carried hoes and shoulder poles to harvest wheat, their family ran around the village led by a stepmother with four stepsons.
After running, it was occasionally possible to see Qin Yao carrying two oversized water barrels she ordered from Liu the carpenter to fetch water at the village well.
While others needed two trips to fill a vat with water, she could fill both vats at home in one go.
After that, as cooking smoke rose, the scent of food wafted over flowers blooming on the hillside.
When villagers returned home for breakfast, children’s reading voices could be heard from her house.
At noon, when farmers continued working in the fields, her home was unbelievably quiet, and passersby by the river who listened closely could hear slight snores.
In the afternoon, the courtyard was bustling again with sounds of "Hey, Ha Ho" practicing martial arts.
On that hillside, the cooking smoke rose earliest—the sun hadn’t set yet, but the curling smoke had already drifted over the rooftop.
When farmers returned home carrying farming tools under the moonlight, the small courtyard on the hillside was already silent, and the whole family was dreaming.
What kind of life was this?
Only concerned with eating and drinking, sitting watching the clouds roll and unfold beyond—it’s a life even gods wouldn’t dare imagine!
Finally, Old Liu couldn’t sit still. With the family’s wheat entirely harvested, he immediately sent the second daughter-in-law, who was newly pregnant and idle, to inquire about the situation.
"Just ask Old Three if they still plan on living this way! Not harvesting the wheat, not planting land—are they waiting to drink the northwest wind?"
Liu Zhong watched his wife leading their daughter out the door, looking at the anxious Old Liu, and added fuel to the fire.
"Dad, have you looked to see if those two acres have more grass or wheat? The whole winter, Old Three’s family hasn’t tended to it at all. I bet they can’t harvest more than a few pounds of grain."
The reclaimed land there was originally low-grade, barren land. If not carefully managed, there’s no hoping for output.
Listening to this, Old Liu stood up abruptly, "I’ll go out for a bit."
Without saying where he was going, everyone knew he was headed to find Old Three.
Land and grain are the farmer’s lifeblood; having no grain can be endured, but without land, it’s as if hope for survival is lost.
Mrs. Qiu walked slowly with Jinhua, and just as they reached the river, Old Liu caught up to them, telling them to go home, that he would speak personally.
Mrs. Qiu looked across the river at that small courtyard, helplessly smiled, and took her daughter home.
Qin Yao predicted that Old Liu would eventually come.
Indeed, as soon as the old man reached the door, Qin Yao, who was sunbathing in a bamboo chair in the courtyard, promptly kicked awake Liu Ji, who was dozing off by the washing platform.
"Your dad is here."
"Huh?" Liu Ji wiped his drool-stained mouth, lifted his head bewilderedly, no longer looking debonair, "Your what dad? What dad, you?"
Old Liu entered the gate, heard this remark, glanced at Liu Ji with his slovenly, sleepy expression, and roared vigorously: "Your dad, I’m here!"
This time, Liu Ji was completely awake, staring in surprise at Old Liu storming in with aggression, retreating while cautiously asking:
"Dad, do you need anything? Have you eaten? Want to rest in the house?"
"Rest?" Old Liu raised his hand and slapped Liu Ji on the back of the head. "All the wheat in the family is harvested, and yet you’re still snoozing here? Not harvesting the wheat in the field? What’s the plan for spring farming this year? Do you have any ideas?"
Liu Ji dodged and dashed to Qin Yao’s side, showing a cowardly face, "Dad, it’s just the lady runs things outside, and I handle inside—I don’t understand any of this. Why hit me? Ask her!"
Qin Yao stood uncomfortably, coughed twice, realizing what was coming couldn’t be avoided, and pulled out a faint smile at the corners of her mouth, "Dad."
One wouldn’t hit someone with a smiling face, especially the daughter-in-law.
Old Liu took a deep breath, reluctantly putting on a kind facade, except his twitching eyebrows looked purely agitated.
"Please sit inside." Qin Yao gestured to the main room.
While Old Liu went inside and turned away, unseen, she backhanded Liu Ji beside her hard, "Go, get Dad a bowl of hot water—show some awareness!"
Liu Ji’s eyes almost rolled upward as he defiantly shook his fist at Qin Yao’s back. Catching sight out of the corner of his eye, four little heads stacked at the windowsill, grinning ear to ear.
"What are you looking at! Finished practicing the characters?" Liu Ji sternly shouted.
The four little heads immediately retracted, returning to sit at the large writing table, using twigs as pens, writing in a sand-filled wooden tray.
Old Liu, intrigued, glanced into the children’s room, "Practicing writing too?"
Qin Yao sat on the stool opposite him, nodded and said, "Didn’t Liu Ji study for a year and a half in the county? Learned it couldn’t be in vain; he can teach the four kids some characters. While they’re young and have good memory, let them learn more things."
Old Liu found it even more curious, "He can be a teacher?"
Liu Ji came in carrying hot water, placed it by Old Liu’s hand, showing a proud smile, "It’s simple—just teaching them reading and writing. Practice, and they’ll get it."
It sounded easy, but only Qin Yao knew he was so annoyed by the four kids he almost considered hanging himself.
But, after all, it’s one family, such details don’t need to be told.
Listening to Liu Ji being of some use, Old Liu’s anger subsided considerably. Yet he didn’t forget his purpose for coming, asking Qin Yao if she had any plans for spring farming.
Seeing Old Liu’s inkling of words, she followed his lead and asked him to offer advice.
Old Liu drank half a bowl of hot water, glanced at the village’s large contiguous fertile land to the east, and shrewdly advised:
"If you ask me, buying land is out of the question. Better take advantage of your favor with Liu Dafu and ask him to rent you twenty acres of good land."
He had calculated, having twenty acres of fertile land yields, subtracting rent and the grain tax of one-fifteenth, could leave four thousand pounds of grain at hand annually by farming two seasons a year.
Dividing all into Silver Coin gives an income of twenty-five taels, then deducting some costs for farm tools, twenty taels could definitely be saved.
A family of two adults and four children, though not living in affluence, would manage fine.
Besides, twenty acres, two people farming it isn’t terribly exhausting. Qin Yao is strong, perhaps she’d even find it easy.
Listening to Old Liu’s plan, Qin Yao thought, dad, farming and chopping people are completely different things; you seriously overestimate me.
She couldn’t even handle the two acres of wheat last year, let alone twenty acres.